the absence of your soft presence
makes this home an empty cavern,
greys my heart

run run run over sweet-smell grass
smiles wave in your sunny wake
your beloved pack awaits

on this night, a home is full.
every heart present, every eye adores,
every hand secure, in peace

too quiet memory of your loving chaos
keeps me reeling beyond secret stars,
fills my veins with sugar sludge

waiting to hear, one way or another --
an empty frame, a frozen screen,
a blanket fallen from our bed

without your eyes on my small work
words live only in my fingers,
reflect only my heart

fatigue fair dates focus
and eyes long closed save
limited leaves for you

birds among stars, ask
to pass through these panes,
these endless rectangles

a historic library bursting
with the stories of the hordes
you leave behind

I keep coming back with nothing
to say. I'll just keep coming back
for now.

as the final candle fades, look for new ways
to work around your missing pieces
until they are ready to be revealed

Reading About Bombs in the I.C.U.

sudden illness and sudden missiles
both cause sudden lack of balance
in light of sudden death's proximity

please sweep us safely with your golden wings
away from the shaking ground that opens
suddenly before gehenna and our frightened tears

unanticipated gratitude and a steady stream of sweetness
in small measure costs little but creates great delight --
search for ways to connect with love

in these short days and long nights
whether starlight or sunshine reigns o'er a moment
the air's positive charge longs to find its perfect home

The Ballad of 1 2 3 (Including Typos)

killed the dinosaurs. The same extinction event killed many
"Did they used to live on our side?"
very real. There, they love only in imagination.

"No problemo." He ripped the wheel, and they turned
which was no wimp, was on their left and gaining.
then fizzled out.

whenever she looked in his direction, she felt horrible
ate and violent turn. She pushed back and left the table
backward into the hall and said good-bye, making sure to

comb tied into the hair on the very top of his head, like a
behind them.
reading his hideous head.

labels, schedule, location, options:
preview post normal:
do not be distracted

sometimes curling soft beauty
is only distant cover for devastation
and chaos at close range

through slats and screens
sun shines and birds dance
a refreshing invitation

quiet sunlight sparks
newspaper cellophane
regardless of the certain death within

as new frustrations arise
so do opportunities to alleviate suffering -
instead, enjoy this cup of tea

on empty, all the extras
should be this good and ours,
primordial purity

plans for steam power
are almost entirely sung
which is really just a third-person

projected, spanned, paired
from a cheeky clone,
a gorgeous serrated atmosphere.

gentle and lovely
try to heal, cry and be present
with a heart broken in three

For Gay Talese

for a documentarian
hidden under these cards
a story never dies

post settings and labels
organized in flamboyant boxes testify
to one method of loving life

best not to begin with hubris
lest you spend your hours
needlessly suffering over inconsequences

the gates may have closed
but the kitchen window is open
to birdsong and breezy sunshine

Yom Kippur

awaken!
there are embroidered spades and broken sticks all around
that need your loving and grateful attention

photo by Stephen Bugno

Yom Kippur

nausea and headache hold still
the gates are closing soon
and our map is incomplete

our pens may be dry
but we still hold our pencils
to inscribe our names in your guestbook

location, options, labels
return us to clearheadedness
if we are reasonably diligent

it is the effort that is wanted
when you send your feedback
and we scribble our impermanent signature

Endeavor

on every corner in town
groups look up hoping
to share a moment

i thank you God for most this amazing

written & read by e.e. cummings

Rosh Hashanah

instead of a severed head
to accompany our blessed meal
spread a bed of tender greens

commit to ingesting less
death, and by this time next year
your heart will be lighter

Rosh Hashanah

hot wind sends unfriendly signals
but I know you are waiting with love
for my unready return

TMZ Found Poem

formally a suspect
towed from the scene
split the still friendly proceeds

on the market
who's missing bottoms out bikini
someone's made up stereotype

with a picture of a naked man's
sweet mini-human
AWWWWWWW!!! EXCLUSIVE!!! WORLD EXCLUSIVE!!!

by Denise Levertov

I need
more of the night before I open
eyes and heart
to illumination